


A Song of Weddings and Beddings

by thestarkbitchtumblr



Series: The Pack Survives [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Game of Thrones, ASoIaF, F/M, GoT, How many more fics will I start and then forget about?, Post - A Game of Thrones, Pre-A Game of Thrones, Pre-A Song of Ice and Fire, R Plus L Equals J, Some are not, Some of these are canon compliant, Some of these are just outtakes from The Prayer Called Arya/By Blood and Law, a song of ice and fire - Freeform, follow my tumblr @thestarkbitch for picsets, i wrote this instead of doing homework, like of these fics and stuff, the world may never know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 17:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18266474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarkbitchtumblr/pseuds/thestarkbitchtumblr
Summary: A series of ficlets describing the weddings and beddings of various couples in the GoT/ASoIaF universe, as well as some outtakes from The Prayer Called Arya and By Blood and Law.





	A Song of Weddings and Beddings

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for clicking on this! Just wanted to say real quick that I'm currently in the midst of the college admissions process and the end of my senior year of high school, so I will most likely not be updating super frequently. Thanks for understanding:)

Catelyn’s whole world had been turned on it’s head over the course of a fortnight. Brandon Stark, her betrothed, had been at Riverrun for their impending wedding when word got around that the Crown Prince of Dragonstone, Rhaegar Targaryen, had kidnapped his little sister, Lyanna, causing him to run off down to King’s Landing to demand that he return her. When his father, Lord Rickard Stark, travelled down to beg for his son’s life, they were both killed by the Mad King, leaving her future uncertain.

She was still reeling from the death of her first love when her father told her that she would be marrying Eddard Stark, the second born son of Rickard and Lyarra, in Brandon’s place. She supposed that she had it better than Lysa, who was set to marry Lord Jon Arryn in the Vale, yet that did little to comfort her on the ride up to Winterfell. She was escorted by her father, Lord Hoster Tully, on her journey into the cold, bleak North. She stayed in the wheelhouse most days of the weeklong ride, reading the books that she had managed to grab from the Riverrun library before their rather abrupt departure.

When they finally arrived at Winterfell, the young southern lady and her father were to be presented in the main yard to a line up of the remaining members and senior household of house Stark. As she stepped out of the wheelhouse, the cold Northern wind hit her like thousands of tiny little daggers biting at her skin, causing her to pull her fur lined cloak tight around her arms. Catelyn tried to keep her shivering to a minimum as she scanned the faces of the men and women before her, hoping to remember and identify the face of Eddard Stark, whom she had only met once before at the tourney of Harrenhal, yet was unsuccessful in her endeavor.

“Presenting Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun, Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, and his eldest daughter, Lady Catelyn Tully.” A squire announced their names, his voice loud and clear against the silence of the people that stared at her. As soon as the squire had finished his announcement, a tall man with broad shoulders, deep-set grey eyes, dark hair, and the shadow of a freshly shaven beard on his prominent jaw stepped forward. He was dressed in the grey and black leathers of house Stark, meaning that he could only be Eddard, and despite his impressive stature and build, Catelyn could see in his face that he was just as uneasy as she.

“Lady Catelyn,” He said, his voice low, as he pressed a brief kiss to her knuckles.

“Lord Stark.” She replied, bowing her head and dipping her knees as soon as he had dropped her hand.

“It is my great honor to welcome you both to Winterfell. I hope you will find your guest chambers to be fitting, and if anything is not to your liking, please bring it to the attention of Mella Longsnow, our head of household.” Ned gestured to a middle aged woman who could only be Mella, who gave a brief curtsy to the southern lady. There was a brief pause before her lord father stepped forward and began to guide Eddard Stark by the shoulder towards the castle. She heard him ask her betrothed of the wedding before they had gone out of earshot.

Catelyn was led to a maiden’s chambers by three different lady’s maids directly after Eddard and her father had walked off together where they quickly drew her a steaming bath. One of the women bathing her had the dark skin of the Summer Isles. She was washing through her long, auburn locks when she told her that Winterfell had been built above natural hot springs, so if she ever missed the heat of home, she need only take a bath. Catelyn had smiled at the dark skinned girl’s comment as the other two Northen lady’s maids gently scrubbed her arms. She later learned that the girl from the Summer Isles was called Gyneva of Omboru, but she didn’t have much time to dwell on that before her father visited her chambers. It was an hour past noon, according to the new Maester Luwin, yet Catelyn couldn’t tell the difference. It was all the same in the cold, bleak North to her. When she heard the gentle sound of her father’s knuckles rapping against the oakwood, she was alone, curled up on her bed reading the holy book of The Maiden.

“Come in!” A second after she had responded, her lord father opened the door and looked at her with an unreadable expression. “What is it, Father?” She asked, folding down the corner of the page that she was on before setting the holy book down. Her father remained silent, sitting down on the edge of her bed before speaking, as if he were collecting his thoughts. She waited until he was ready, not wanting to press anything out of him, knowing that whatever he had to say, she probably wouldn’t like.

“I’ve spoken to Lord Stark about your impending marriage,” He said finally, his voice even and steady. Catelyn nodded slowly, preparing herself for what would come next. “Robert Baratheon has called his bannermen to join him in battle against the Targaryens. House Stark has answered the call, and has rallied many noble houses of the North to join the fight. They will be leaving for the warfront within the next few days, which leaves little time for a wedding.” Lord Tully paused before looking his daughter directly in the eye. “You’ll be married at sundown.”

Catelyn nodded, swallowing her fears and pride. She began to take a deep breath before getting off of her bed and standing, facing the wardrobe where the dresses she had brought had yet to be hung. Her father stood and approached her, his brows furrowed with concern.

“Are you alright with this, Cat?” He asked. The southern lady gently clutched the silver trout pendant that hung from her neck, knowing that in the coming hours, she would be drawing her strength from it. She then turned to her father and managed a faint smile.

“You brought me up on the words of our house, Father. _Family, duty, honor._ I’ve always tried to live according to those words, to have them shape every decision that I make. I’ll learn to manage up here because I have a duty to our house, and my feelings about this marriage can’t change that.” She spoke the words quietly, as if she were speaking to herself rather than her father. He nodded in understanding before wrapping his eldest child in his arms. The two Tullys held each other close for a moment, gripping tightly onto each other before Hoster pulled away to look at at his daughter.

“You’ve always been so strong, you know that? I’ve not known a soldier who has half the strength and resilience as you. Even when you were just eight years old and we lost your mother, you never once let your heart get in the way of your duty. You always put our family before yourself, and I will never cease to be amazed at your resolve. Being your father has been my greatest honor, sweet Cat.” The southern lord whispered, wiping away a stray tear from his daughter’s cheek with his thumb before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back soon.” Hoster then left the chambers, leaving Catelyn alone with her thoughts.

Not long after her father left, there was a knock at the door. The southern lady was combing her hair in front of a looking glass when it happened.

“Come in!” She said, putting down the brush. The oakwood door opened slowly, and to Catelyn’s surprise, a young man was on the other side. She stood quickly as the lad came into her chambers. He was of medium height and build, his awkward air indicating that he was walking the line between boy and man.

“My lady, I apologize for visiting unannounced. My brother sent me.” The young man said, his voice low and quiet, much like the new Lord Stark’s. “We’ve met once before, briefly at Harrenhal. I’m Benjen Stark.” Catelyn nodded, remembering her meeting with the youngest Stark roughly a year before.

“Right, Benjen. It’s good to see you again.” There was an awkward pause before she noticed the heavy garment that he held in his arms. “You said that Eddard sent you? Did he ask you to bring me that?” She asked, gesturing to what looked like a dress. Benjen furrowed his brows for just a moment before chuckling softly.

“Yes, he did. I apologize, my lady, I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just that hardly anyone ever calls my brother _Eddard_. He’s always gone by Ned.” The young Stark explained, causing Catelyn’s face to flush with embarrassment, at that moment painfully aware of how little she knew of the man that she was to marry. “He did ask me to give this to you, to wear for the ceremony. It belonged to our mother when she married our father. She made it herself.” His voice seemed to falter when he mentioned his father, reminding both parties all too painfully of his and Brandon’s recent murder at the hands of the mad king. Catelyn took the dress from the young Stark, giving him an awkward smile.

“Thank you, Benjen. I’ll be sure to wear it tonight.” She said. The boy bowed his head as he stepped out, closing the door behind him.

The southern lady inspected the material of the silver garment, feeling the soft silk beneath her fingertips. The hems were lined with fur and the sleeves had the Stark sigil of the direwolf embroidered into the fabric with silver thread. As she ran her thumb over the little direwolf, an idea struck her. She tossed the dress down onto the bed and began to rummage through her trunk, quickly finding her needle and blue thread. Over the next hour, Catelyn spent her time stitching the Tully trout into both of the sleeves, next to the Stark direwolf. When she was finished, she called the handmaidens into her chambers to help her dress. The women didn’t say anything when they noticed the new embroidery as they helped her into her gown, but they did exchange looks every now and again. The silent exchanges seemed to say, _who does she think she is, defacing Lady Stark’s handiwork?_ , but she didn’t mind. She was a Tully of Riverrun always, and nothing could ever change that.

When it was finally time for the ceremony, Catelyn’s father was to escort her to the godswood. He told her how beautiful she looked, and she thanked him. She then took his arm as they followed the trail of candles that led into the woodland temple of the old gods of the North. When they arrived at the clearing, candles and torches lit the way. Several members of the household Stark stood as witnesses in the grove, all eyes on the southern lady. Catelyn looked forward at her groom, Ned Stark, standing in his furs and leathers. His face maintained an unreadable expression as she and her father stopped before the ancient weirwood tree.

“Who gives this woman to be wed to this man?” Maester Luwin asked, but Catelyn hardly heard him speak.

“I do, Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun, her father.” The southern lord said, his words loud and sharp in the cold Northern air. He then turned to Catelyn and pressed a kiss to her cheek before stepping aside, falling into the shadows with the others. She then turned to Ned, gently placing both her hands in his. He looked down and noticed the Tully trout sewn into the fabric near the end of the sleeve. Catelyn held her breath, suddenly afraid of how he might react to her altering his mother’s gown. But instead of getting angry, he gave her a fleeting smile and nodded, as if in approval. She exhaled, relieved, before the maester started his speech.

“Friends, we are gathered here on this solemn evening to join together a man and a woman. Unfortunate circumstance has brought these two together, but as the saying goes, there can be no joy without sacrifice. I pray that the gods will see it fit to bless this union with joy, with honor, with children, with love, but more than anything, I pray they bless you with trust. As husband and wife, many people will say that your home is Winterfell, but they will be wrong. A home is not a castle, it is not a place, nor is it a person. A home is being in a position in which you know that you can place your trust in someone to hold you, to guide you, and to love you, no matter the circumstances. May the gods see it fit for you to find a home in each other.” Throughout Luwin’s speech, both the bride and groom were looking to him, yet near the very end, both Catelyn and Eddard had turned and to look upon one another.

“Eddard, please recite the words for the cloaking of your bride.” The maester said. Lord Stark nodded before dropping Catelyn’s hands to undo the clasp on his cloak. His hands were gentle as he placed the heavy garment on her shoulders and his fingers were nimble as he worked the class.

“As this cloak shields you from the cold, let it represent how I should shield you from anyone and anything that would cause you harm, dishonor, or distress. I give you my house, and the name it comes with. I give you my shield, and the protection it comes with. I give you my body,” He paused briefly, Catelyn feeling his hot breath on her neck. “And the comfort it comes with.” She then turned around to face him again, placing her hands in his once more.

“Lady Catelyn, do you take this man, Eddard, to be your wedded husband in the eyes of gods and men?” The maester asked. Catelyn’s blue eyes returned to those of her groom. In the dark of the falling night, their grey hue seemed black.

“I take this man.” She said, her voice quiet and soft. Maester Luwin then turned to Ned.

“Lord Stark, do you take this woman, Catelyn, to be your wedded wife in the eyes of gods and men?” Ned kept his eyes trained on his bride, his expression unreadable.

“I take this woman.” He replied. The Maester nodded.

“Let the two whom the gods have joined together seal their vows with their lips, and thus be wed.” Catelyn felt her heart beating hard in her chest as Lord Stark leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft against her own, the kiss short and gentle. When they separated, the others in attendance began to cheer and clap, the two then walking down the path back towards Winterfell for the feast.

The next hour was spent in the great hall, Eddard and Catelyn sitting at the dais eating meat and sipping wine while the guests shouted, danced, and drank themselves into oblivion. They didn’t exchange a single word throughout the meal, they simply watched the men and women of Winterfell celebrate their union until a drunken lord announced that it was time for the bedding ceremony. Catelyn’s heart crawled into her throat as dozens of men set upon her as she began to run away, unsure of how the various hands worked so nimbly at her buttons and clasps. By the time she had reached the lord’s chambers, she was left in only her cotton shift whose buttons had miraculously remained intact throughout the bedding. The southern lady stood by the fireplace, staring into the flames as she waited for her husband. A few moments later, the door burst open and Ned staggered in, grunting in annoyance at the shrills and giggles of the women who had followed him all the way to his chambers. He shut the door behind himself before turning to his wife, suddenly aware of their solitude.

“I apologize for their behavior back there. The men of Winterfell have gone too long without celebration, and I fear it has made them brutish.” He said, his deep voice conveying his disapproval.

“Thank you. I appreciate your saying so.” She said. There was an uncomfortable silence until Ned spoke up.

“Would you like some wine, my lady?” He asked.

“Yes, that would be wonderful!” Catelyn replied, almost immediately. They both walked over to the small table near the fire where two glasses and a jug of wine were placed. He poured the liquid into the two glasses, handing one to Catelyn and taking one for himself. He began to raise his glass, as if to make a toast, yet there was something that seemed to be plaguing his mind. Instead of toasting right away, he lowered his glass back down to its neutral position.

“I know this isn’t what you wanted or expected for your wedding.” He said, and for the first time, the southern lady felt as if he were speaking with her honestly, not holding back. She didn’t know what to say, so she remained silent. “My brother was always good with words. He could meet a woman in a crowded tavern, not even knowing her name, yet he would know exactly what to say to make her swoon. He was confident, quick witted, and impossibly charming. I know that you cared for him, and I know that marrying me in his stead couldn’t have been a welcome alternative. But I hope that, in time, you and I can grow to love one another, and be happy.” As he spoke, Catelyn listened with a fond ear, glad that her husband was finding the ability to open up to her in such a way.

“I hope for that as well.” She replied, and for the first time since the eldest Stark’s death, the two newlyweds shared a genuine smile. Ned then raised his glass again, Catelyn following suit.

“To a happier future.” He said, the two of them clinking their glasses together before downing the wine. When she had reached the bottom of the glass, Catelyn walked past her husband towards one of the two bedside tables. She paused after putting down it before turning back around to face her husband, the nerves regarding what would come next starting to truly set in.

“Ned— Sorry, may I call you Ned?” She said stumbling over her words. Her husband chuckled as he put his own cup down on the table by the fire.

“You’re my wife, Catelyn, you can call me whatever you like.” He replied, a small smile on his lips. She laughed nervously, nodding her head.

“Right. _Ned_.” She paused, her heard pounding so hard in her chest she wondered if he could hear it. “Have you ever done this before?” She finally asked. He nodded slowly, as if suddenly understanding her nerves. He looked down to his feet before looking back up at her.

“No.” He spoke as if stating a fact rather than an admission as he felt. She exhaled, sitting down on the bed in the same motion. “Does that disappoint you?” He asked, his brows furrowed.

“What? No, not at all. It’s quite a relief, actually.” She said, a nervous laugh chiming in at the end of her sentence. “I know that your brother wasn’t a… _a stranger_ to sharing a woman’s bed. I had often worried that I wouldn’t be as good as other women he’d had, and that he’d end up resenting me for it. So it’s a welcome relief to know that neither one of us really has anything to compare it to.” She met his eyes and they shared a brief smile before Ned’s expression changed ever so slightly. His eyes began to slowly leave her face to travel down her neck, her shoulders, her chest, and it felt as if she could feel his gaze upon her as if it were hands.

“Stand up.” He said suddenly, his expression unreadable. Catelyn furrowed her brows in confusion, yet she did as she was told. “Come here.” She approached him slowly, her breath coming slightly more difficult as she got closer, her heart beating wildly in her chest. “Turn around.” She had just stopped in front of him, the two of them standing silent before the crackling fire. She turned around for him, unsure of what he was going to do as she felt the warmth of the fire on her skin. Catelyn gasped when she felt his hands on her neck, his calloused fingers surprisingly soft against her skin. His digits then travelled upward into her hair to gently removing the pins and braids that held together her elaborate Northern hairstyle, his short nails grazing across her scalp, a sensation that caused her breath to hitch and the hairs on her arms stand up. His nimble fingers worked through her hair, individual locks tumbling down around her shoulders as he worked, the sensation of his hot breath against her ear as he finished with her hair causing a heat to stir within her. He pressed his lips to her shoulder as he began to unclasp the necklace that carried her Tully trout, but as he took a bit of her skin in between his teeth, she couldn’t seem to care. He continued to kiss her shoulders and her neck, and by the time he reached her jaw, she had turned back around to face him. Before he got to her lips, however, he pulled away, Catelyn having to stop herself from whimpering at the loss of sensation.

His dark grey eyes bore into her own, not saying a word as he began to undo the buttons that went down the front of her shift, and she couldn’t help but feel slightly self conscious as it fell to the floor around her. Ned looked her up and down as she fought to keep her arms from obstructing the view, and she felt a rush of pride when she noticed an approving smirk forming at the corners of his lips. She then began to work on his already half unlaced jerkin, holding their mutual gaze as she pulled at the laces. When she had reached the bottom, he helped her slide the leather garment off of his shoulders, leaving him in only his breeches. His body was well chiseled, his muscles firm and pronounced. He broke his gaze away from her own to watch as his hands drew her naked body closer to his own, his right hand sliding up from her waist to her round, plump breasts while the left rested on the small of her back, pulling their bodies together. Catelyn was breathing heavily as she placed her hands on the sides of his torso, enjoying the feeling of his muscles flexing beneath her nimble fingers as their lips came together. The kiss was slow and passionate, and she could feel his manhood growing hard as he removed his hand from her breast to grab her buttocks, pulling their bodies impossibly closer. She began to walk backwards, pulling Ned along with her, their lips never parting until the backs of her knees hit the mattress. Ned watched as Cat laid herself down on the bed, crawling backwards until she reached the pillows, their eyes never leaving one another. Out of instinct, she held her knees shut until Ned nudged them open with his hands as he knelt on the featherbed. He lowered himself onto her body, his breeches still intact and on his body as they kissed. She felt the heat deep in her gut growing stronger as her husband dragged his lips from hers down to her jaw, her neck, her breasts. When he moved down to her stomach, she looked down and stopped him.

“What are you doing?” She asked, brows furrowed in confusion. Ned looked up at her, moving his rough hands down from her breasts to hook around the space between her hips and her legs.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his dark eyes boring into her own river blue. She swallowed as she nodded her head, unable to speak. He kissed her belly, sucking a bit of flesh into his mouth, grazing the skin with his teeth. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked, the rough skin of his jaw brushing against the tender skin of her belly. She shook her head, speechless as he moved his head even further down, between her legs. He pressed kisses against her inner thigh, exhaling his warm breath over her sex when he switched over to kiss the other. When he finally moved his mouth onto her center, she thought that she would explode, the heat building inside her was so intense. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, arching her back as her muscles contracted in a wave of pleasure such that she had never experienced before in her life when he sucked at the little bundle of nerves. She was shaking by the time it was over, Ned moving his mouth back up to her own, pressing his lips against her own. She would normally be repulsed at the prospect of kissing someone who had just done _that_ , but it only increased her desire for him. Ned went to bring his right hand between them, about to penetrate her with his fingers before she pulled away from him, placing a hand on his chest, signaling him to stop. He looked at her, his eyes seeming to ask the question for which she was about to give the answer.

“I want you to take me, Ned. I’m ready.” Catelyn spoke the words breathlessly, and he nodded, pressing a kiss to her lips as he freed his erect manhood from the confines of his breeches before entering her slowly. She let out a whimper of pleasure as he began to thrust in and out of her, digging her fingers into his arse in an attempt to bring him deeper into her cunt. Their hips moved in unison, the bed rocking in time with his thrusts. The more he fucked her, the better it felt, and by the time he finished, spilling his seed inside of her, she was gasping his name over and over. He himself had exhaled her nickname every now and then during the process, her desire growing growing with each time he muttered _Cat._ When it was done, it was as if they were waking from a trance. Ned rolled off of his wife, panting as he lay beside her, their sweaty, naked bodies glistening in the moonlight. The night was silent save for the sounds of the two newlyweds catching their breath, their bodies still throbbing with heat in the midst of the cold North. Catelyn looked over at her husband who was still breathing heavily, staring up at the ceiling.

“Ned?” She spoke his name as a question, his response a small _hm?_. “Did you enjoy it?” She asked, slightly offput by his silence until that moment. He began to laugh softly as he nodded his head.

“Yes, I enjoyed it very much.” He said with ease before turning his head to look over at her. “Did you?” Catelyn began to smile softly as she nodded.

“I didn’t think that I would. Practically every woman I’ve spoken to since becoming betrothed told me that it would hurt the first time, but it didn’t. I think what you did... _before_ helped. It felt more like a relieving of discomfort than a sharp pain as I’d been told it would feel like. So yes. I enjoyed it.” She said, smiling lightly and blushing as she did so. Ned grinned at her softly before taking her cheek in his hand and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

They spent the rest of the night just talking. Ned seemed to have endless stories about his sister, and Cat had plenty of her own about her own siblings and Petyr Baelish, who felt like a little brother to her. She had put on a velvet and fur lined robe while Ned wore his breeches, yet she had only done so due to the cold. After they had laid together, it felt as if the barrier of unease and awkwardness between them had broken down entirely. As they eventually began to drift off to sleep in each other’s arms, Catelyn smiled to herself, for her marriage to Ned Stark appeared to have been a blessing in disguise.


End file.
